Songbird
by JetStorm the Sparkling
Summary: Humanized Transformers  Megatron comes across what might be an angel on his way home one night. Who is this strange young man? What is he?


_Disclaimer: Own Transformers? Me? I wish!_

_Note: I had to change a few names, so to point out, Megatron is called Emory. It just sounds better, since he's a human here. Shokum is Shockwave, Starscream starts off as Tarek, and Soundwave is Samson. Trust me, it works out!_

_**Please review! Wonderful Things with caffeine are on their way, I promise! **_

**Songbird**

**Chapter One: Broken Wings**

"You are not fit to keep your wings!"

"What?" The angel with red-tinged wings was shocked. Had he not done all he could to prove he had truly earned his wings? "Shokum…What do you mean?"

The yellow-eyed angel with dark purple wings glared at the other. "You heard me, Tarek. You will be Stripped."

"NO!" he cried. But it was too late. The purple wings unfurled, throwing up a wall of light that washed over the other. The white-winged angel vanished from the hall.

Shokum folded his wings again. "If you learn your lesson…I may grant you a Guardianship." He said to the empty air.

_In the town of Grantsfield_

Emory trudged home from work, cursing the fact his car had broken down two days ago, and he didn't get off work until after the public busses had stopped running for the night. And his best friend Samson wasn't able to give him a ride, either. At least he didn't live too far away. Just a little over a mile. And for someone like Emory, that was close.

As he turned onto his street, he heard a faint cry. Looking up, he saw a light forming into a shape, about five feet off the ground. He had to squint to make out the shape, since the light was getting brighter. As he watched, the light formed into the shape of a person…with wings.

"What…the hell?" he whispered, watching as the shape solidified into a young man – or woman – with beautiful white wings, edged in red. After the person solidified, Emory saw the wings suddenly stiffen, and a scream exploded from the slender form in the light. As the screaming continued, Emory's eyes widened, the wings were disintegrating!

Then the light faded, and the person stopped screaming, and he began to fall. Emory rushed forward, and caught him. It was definitely a male. And he was amazingly light.

Pale eyes opened, the irises darkening from near-white to a red-purple, with more red.

"Who are you?" Emory whispered, amazed by this strange person.

"I don't know. I lost part of me…" the soft voice was slightly raspy – from the scream, no doubt – but otherwise melodic.

"Your wings?" Emory asked, and saw a flash of pain cross the other's face. "Do you have a name?"

"No…not anymore…" was the sad answer, with a shake of his head, dark hair falling over his eyes. As Emory held him, the younger leaned his head on Emory's arm, and closed his eyes. And he knew that the slender man had fallen unconscious.

Emory frowned, how had losing his wings taken away this person's name? Either way, he really couldn't leave him out here on the street. So, he picked up the light-weight fellow, and did all he could think of…He took him home, and set up the couch for him to sleep on. He couldn't do anything more.

10 o'clock. Next morning

The Stripped angel opened his eyes many hours after losing his wings, and simply stared at the ceiling overhead. He was very confused. He'd been outside, and it had been nighttime. Now, the sun was blazing in the sky. And he was laying on something soft. Mostly comfortable, and soft.

"Took you long enough to wake up." A gruff voice called to him.

The angel turned to look at who was speaking to him. A solidly-built fellow with dark hair and eyes.

The angel blinked, still confused.

"My name is Emory." The man continued. "What's yours?"

"Don't have one." The angel said softly.

"Everyone has one." Emory said, scowling. He had on a dark grey t-shirt with an angular, stylized bulldog face printed on it. Worn, dark-colored pants and work boots completed the picture.

"I don't." the angel said softly. _Not since Shokum Stripped me. But I can't tell this human that. They're not allowed to know!_

"So you say." Was the grumpy reply. "You gotta have a name."

The angel looked up hopefully, "Could you give me one? A name?"

"You _have_ to be kidding!" Emory burst out. "Give you a name?"

The slender fellow nodded, his odd, reddish eyes fixed on Emory. "Yes. If you say I must have a name, you should give me one."

Emory growled, glaring at the other, who just looked back at him, unflinching. _Crazy. He's crazy. Fine…if he wants a damned name, I'll give him one._

"I'll call you Starr." He declared, and was amazed by the reaction.

"Thank you, Emory." the newly-named Starr said, bowing his head in a truly grateful way.

_He's not upset I gave him a girls' name? Very weird._ He thought. "Sure. You're Starr."

Starr smiled faintly to himself. Even without wings, he was still someone. He had a name. Even if Emory was gruff, he seemed like a genuinely nice person. Starr wondered what would happen to him now. Fortunately, Emory seemed to answer that question quickly.

"And while you're here, Starr. You'll have to help out. I'll see if I can get you working where I am. But until then, help out here. The apartment's not hard to look after, but it'll need it."

Starr nodded again. He understood that. Everyone had to pull their weight. "What will you need me to do?" he asked.

"I'll let you know when it comes up, alright?"

"Alright. I'll do whatever you need me to do."

"Good." Emory grumbled again.


End file.
